Finding Home
by Windpheonix
Summary: In Coruscant Brook had heard again and again from the older clones, that one day the steady beat of the canon boat would speak of hope and safety. For now it only told him about fear and uncertainty.


**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Star Wars and I don't earn any money with this piece of fiction. I write it for entertainment purpose only.

* * *

In Coruscant Brook had heard again and again from the older clones, that one day the steady beat of the canon boat would speak of hope and safety. For now it only told him about fear and uncertainty.

The psychic evaluation hadn't hidden the fact that there was nothing expected of his battalion. Even now, mid flight, their captain was arguing with them.

"I tell you. In three weeks they will be the finest you have seen."

The blue holo shook its head in denial. "We have seen these clones Sir. They will have to be re-evaluated. Their squads have been destroyed. They will not function like you are used to. Let us send you another, functional group and retrain these."

Brook lowered his eyes. No one knew what he was looking at with the HUD, but he was still uncomfortable using it. After all spaarti Clones didn't have much time getting used to it.

He fearfully raised his visor and studied his brothers.

Small groups of two or three were huddled together. Seldom did he see a clone sitting alone. Even the single squad survivors hunkered down next to each other. Brook was sitting rather on the edge of that round.

None of them talked to him and he didn't dare to open a com-line to any of them.

Several troopers had been pushed together. From what Brook had heard they were all what was left of several battalions.

None of their superiors thought they were reliable. So what was a fresh out of the lab Spaarti clone doing here?

Brook had been told to obey, to not ask questions. He flinched at the memories of the past, especially of the time in flash training.

So he did what he had been drilled to do. He obeyed and waited for their arrival.

It was a hot, dry day as Brook stepped down the ramp and into the simmering heat of Mandalor in summer.

Dirt rose up in clouds, slowly settling on new, shiny armour, giving it a red hue when Brook tried to wipe it off.

"Move it spaarti!" A push hit his shoulder, made him stumble off the ramp, an older trooper strode by, and his brother followed him.

The sound of the canon boat gained volume as it took off. The grey-red dust causing the air filters in his helmet to close.

For one moment there was blissful silence inside his helmet. Nothing got through to him and Brook could imagine being back in the drill, nothing to loose, nothing to gain, just training, the future still waiting to happen.

Just then the com-links activated and his captain, the mongrel, was bellowing out orders. Everything erupted into carefully choreographed chaos.

No troopers to call his squad, no brother by his side. Where were they?

Where were the other spaarti clones now?

Where had they ended up, his brothers?

What should he do?

He followed, followed his captain.

* * *

Weeks later, in the home of Kal Skirata the ex-commando Scorch sighed once, gripped his deece and sighed a second time. He was bored!

Levet was building that farm. It had just rained and the earth was moist and soft

Uthan, Gilamar and about everyone, who wasn't in the kitchen, trying to get an extra bite from Laseema, were in the labs. In his opinion there was only one description for this sterile place: boring and not to mention creepy, as it lay too close to Kamino for comfort.

Not that he would admit this tidbit of information, not even to Sev. His mind coiled away from the thought, the loss of his brother still too new, too raw to touch. He didn't want to admit that his brother would not just stride around the corner, ready to throw a punch for a bad pun Scorch had made.

He understood, that his brother in blood red armour would not return, but his subconscious kept denying it. They were an original squad, had been together from day one.

His brother couldn't die.

That could not happen, could not happen.

He shook his head and searched the building for someone to take help him take his mind off of things. Watching all of the others crowd the instruments always unnerved the commando, although he knew they were just trying to give all of his vod's a normal life span.

It still reminded him too much about how the Kaminoans had messed not only with their genes but also with their heads.

The commando was slowly wandering over the bone-dry earth. He nodded as he spotted a lone figure staring up into the sky.

Fi had chosen a seat on his favourite place again. It was a hip-high stone overlooking the entire area, a perfect place to take watch. It also warmed nicely in the afternoon sun.

Fi sought it out in the late afternoon, when the stifling heat was gone and lounged on it like a lizard till late in the evening.

Scorch gave a wry smile as he saw Fi's deece leaning behind him at the stone, out of sight for people coming and in very easy reach for him.

The Commando doubted that his brother had consciously chosen this spot and he also doubted that the clone had consciously thought about placing his weapon there.

It was something that had been drilled into their heads since they were old enough to hold a gun.

His smile faded.

His brothers would never be normal again. No matter how much Kal tried, no matter if they gained their full lifespan. There would always be something twisted within them.

Scorch didn't know if he wanted to be normal.

Kal talked about it and Scorch wasn't sure if that was what he wanted for himself.

It was just that even Vau, the hard, cold man, who had beaten his squad into shape, who still made his blood run cold when he made a mistake, got that almost soft look on his face when Kal talked about it, this normal life.

Again he stopped his thoughts from wandering into unwanted territory and called out to his brother.

"Hey Fi. Finished talking about the latest kama model's with Ordo?

How about we go get some fresh meat? I would try that dynamite fishing but Kal said it would call for attention, so we will have to do it old-fashion."

_The entire dinner table had frozen when Levet had mentioned that method of fishing and Kal had made him give his word that he would not do it before either Kal and Vau had allowed it explicitly. _

_Scorch had sulked afterwards because he knew that it would be a hot day on Hoth before these two agreed on anything._

Fi grinned wishfully at the mention of explosives.

"Yes, that sounded fun. I would have tried to get Niner to try it when he comes with Dar, although he would just refuse again. That guy is just too much a stickler for rules."

Scorch grinned and nodded. Yes, the leader of Omega squad had always been too careful about rules to be fun.

"So, what will we hunt? A fish would be tasty or perhaps some wild nunas…"Scorch tried to bait his fellow clone. Civilian food always tasted amazing and was out of league with a commando's ration.

Fi, licked his lips. He jumped to his feet and grabbing the weapon he replied: "Count me in Scorch, you made me hungry. Perhaps we will just try fishing the old fashiond way.

Laseema talked about a receipt earlier, it sounded good."

* * *

Meanwhile in the GAR station in Kyrimero the new battalion stood at attention for their Commander.

Standing in line in the sun of Mandalore, Brook listened to the sermon of his new captain, a mongrel. He droned on and on about loss and teamwork.

Brook bit back a dismissive comment.

A brother might understand what they had gone through, but this person surly did not.

He had not lost his squad, had barely had a chance of forming one, but he missed the brothers he knew already. He didn't want to imagine how these words felt to the brothers whose comrades had been left on the fields.

Two weeks had passed since they had arrived and this mongrel had his blood constantly boiling.

This time they were herded into a canon boat and unloaded after several hours.

Brook moved slowly, as they took formation.

His legs were stiff after the long flight. The captain had taken the same ship that transported Brook and nobody within sight had dared to move. There had been an unsettling silence.

The young spaarti clone couldn't shake the feeling, that the mongrel was watching him.

Even within Brook's helmet there was dead silence; the clones had stayed in their splintered groups of squad survivors.

No unity had formed, just as psychological evaluation had predicted, and as the pressure on their captain grew to shape them into a real team, his temper grew worse.

Right now his gaze scanned the troops. Everything seemed to be in order, as the burly man snapped out his commands.

"Perimeter check, teams of two. Go!"

A perimeter check? For what? Around what?

Brook grimaced under his helmet; these orders didn't make any sense.

It was as if their commander just wanted to see if they would follow his word, and nobody dared to cross him.

The troopers hurried of, obeying just to be out of reach.

"You, clone, with me, I'll make sure you don't screw up you bastard." A coarse laugh followed and Brook got the sudden urge to wring that stubble covered throat. Where were his brothers to cover him? Why didn't anyone say something?

But being the well drilled clone he was, he took up back position, carefully checking as he was ordered to.

The captain's steps were fast, he knew where he was leading them, he had a direction in mind.

According to Brook's HUD they were nearing a river. Situated in a canyon it reached even level with the land after several clicks.

The treeline started to thin out.

Brook let his HUD swing around, watching his captain walking closer to the edge of the canyon. He stepped carefully on the mud, which had formed after the last rainfall.

A blaster shot charred the ground next to him

Brook fell to his knee.

"Enemy! Take cover!"

He yelled, HUD frantically scanning the area - but it came up clear.

Nobody was there.

Brook shifted, blood thrumming in his throat. This didn't make sense.

Where is he? Where did that come from?

This was not right, just not right. Why hadn't he watched his HUD, why hadn't he seen anything?

The click of a DC-15 connecting with his temple let him freeze.

"Always a nice, loyal clone, aren't you?" his captain's voice sounded in Brook's helmet.

Brook felt ill. What was going on? Was this a test?

He tried to activate his com on broad frequency, but the captain overruled it, keeping their talk on closed com.

He licked his lips; mouth and tongue were dry.

"Sir? I don't understand."

A snort sounded through the line like static.

"Well, that's right. Sorry boy, you weren't doing so badly, but this is necessary. I need something to get your lads together. Command is breathing down my neck as it is. I need results, I need a working team."

The man sounded almost apologetic, before he switched channels and started shouting, voice high in panic.

"Help! Traitor!"

Brook's pulse hammered in his throat.

"What? Where?"

He gripped his riffle harder and struggled to get up in the soft soil, his feet kept slipping.

He couldn't believe it.

He had just followed his orders.

He had done nothing wrong!

Slipping in the loose soil, he tried to get up.

"You really aren't from the smartest of the bunch, neh?" The Captain weighed a grenade in his left hand, weapon still pointed to Brook's head.

He could here his brother's voices, the troops were coming closer.

"He has a grenade! Everybody, down!"

Real worry seemed to colour the captain's voice.

Brook could not believe what happened, was frozen, could only watch, while the mongrel shouted and threw, threw a grenade right in the direction of his brothers.

Time stopped.

He could not move, could not speak, and watched how the grenade sailed over his head.

The captain dove for cover.

The explosion hit them; send Brook sprawling to the ground, flames licking over his armour, ears ringing from the noise.

The dampeners in his helmet kicked in.

His muscles were numb. Brook heard muffled voices.

The world started to move again.

His body ached all over, nothing had gone through but he had been tossed around like a nuna in a durasteel mixer.

Someone kicked him, turned him over and ripped off his helmet. Brown eyes squinted up against the light.

"It's that spaarti."

His identychip was torn out. The captain turned around, judging the clone too wounded to move.

Brook ignored the spinning and shaking of the ground. He struggled up, first to his knees, than to his feet. He panted hard, fighting to get the question at the front of his mind out:

"Wait, sir, what's going on?"

He almost begged for an explanation, anything. He had done nothing wrong. Why was this happening?

Automatically he gripped his weapon, holding on to it like a lifeline.

"Sir! Six o'clock! Watch out!" There was honest fear in his brother's voice, but why? There was only he, their brother, what was going on?

The nozzles of their weapons lit up, Brook stumbled, trying to reach cover. Was this a test? How far would they go?

There was no cover, only the cliff, the river roaring beneath it, the area void of anything but loose pebbles.

He didn't feel the hits. It was a force that pushed him back; there was no pain, no fear as he lost footing, stumbling backwards.

There was just this aching emptiness as he saw his brothers fire the next round, the void as he saw his brothers help the mongrel up, covering him, the none-clone.

Then, suddenly, the view vanished, only clear sky being there, clear sky and a cliff, which grew bigger and bigger. No time to ask himself what was going on as Brook hit the water and the current rushed him away, smashing his body against the rocks until he lost consciousness.

* * *

Someone gently rapped his shoulder. Brook's eyes fluttered open, only to clench them close again.

"Bright…"

The nano second he had seen something managed to get his stomach protesting. Taking a few breaths Brook dared to look again.

A mandalorian visor stared down at him.

"Udesii ner vod."

An armoured hand lay down on his arm, the voice low and soothing.

"Stay still, help is on this way."

The man sounded familiar. But why? Brook's brain decided to tell him to stop thinking and send a couple of fresh waves of pain through his skull.

Why, for the love of the stars, would a Mando even consider helping him?

And why did he sound like a brother?

Fi pulled the medkit out and ran the sensors over the battered body of his brother.

How had their fishing trip turned out like this? He decided not to ponder on it too much.

The clone had no tracking devices he or Scorch could detect and was in a bad shape. It looked like he had been dragged along by the river for a while. Blaster shots marred what was left of his armour.

Scorch had meanwhile pulled his comlink out. He called the first person that came to his mind.

Vau would have told him the sensible thing. The clone was a threat.

But Scorch did not want to do the sensible thing. He didn't want to treat him like a threat.

So, although it tasted like betrayal he called the one person, who would be swayed by the fate of a young clone.

There was a moment of static, before the other man picked up the line. Scorch took a deep breath before he started to speak softly.

"Kal? We picked up a clone. Propably a spaarti, he looks pretty young. Yes, he is in a sorry shape."

He stopped, listening to the older man's questions.

"No we don't know what happened, but it doesn't seem like anyone is here, we have been keeping our eyes open while we were hunting and saw no one.

We are down by the river, your old fishing ground. No tracking devices, no explosive traps. Scorch ran a simple test on his blood, there are no unusual chemicals."

Scorch shrugged his shoulders.

"He looks clean…"

His voice trailed off, listening to Skirata's voice while watching Fi handling their brother. He could almost hear Skirata wrestle with the wish to take another broken young man under his wing … and witnessed him fail miserably.

"All right, knock him out for the travel and one of you make it look like he was not washed ashore."

"Yes sir."

"Another one Scorch. Be careful. I don't want anyone to find out where we are, but I don't want you to get lost either."

Scorch shut is comlink off, wondering about the differences between Skirata and Valon Vau, his own training sergeant. The man had beat his brothers and him within an inch of their lives often enough and never, ever had they seemed to be good enough for him.

Skirata or Kal'Buir as his adopted sons called him was the entire opposite. He loved his sons no matter what they did and always had an encouraging word for them. Sometimes Scorch wished his sergeant had been the same, but then he squished the thought again.

Vau had made them into what they were. The best soldiers in the universe.

_But not good enough to save Sev._

Scorch squished the thought violently. He turned on his heels and crouched down next to Fi.

"How is he?" Bandages covered parts of the clone's body and Fi had pulled off armour plates to stabilise what looked like a broken arm.

The joker of Delta squad messaged the remnants of bacta gel into bruised muscle and leaned back.

"No life threatening injuries as far as I can see, but some of the blaster shot melted through his armour. Must have been some heavy fire he was under. I would rather let Gil look at that than taking the plates of here. What did Kal say?"

"We should make sure that he is unconscious and take him back.

You take him, I willl make sure it doesn't look like he landed here."

Fi nodded his understanding and hoisted the unconscious weight across his shoulders.

"I'm just glad Kal makes us take the big medkit whenever we go out. It sure came in handy this time."

* * *

Sitting in their medbay, keeping an eye on the spaarti Scorch and Fi had brought in several hours ago Skirata found himself increasingly frustrated with the way the galaxy ran nowadays.

He watched the clone sleep his drug induced slumber, now and then smoothing a caring hand through his short cropped hair. Levet and his crew had decided to grow it out after they arrived; most of the nulls had left it short. With a sad smile he compared the look on Brook's face with the one of his sons.

Skirata smiled as the spaarti leaned into the warmth of his hand.

Although troubled, from dreams and the rest of the pain, which the drugs could not chase away, he had an air of innocence about him. He reminded him a bit about the young pups, wide eyed and so eager to please that you nearly expected them to stumble over their own paws.

Brook's eyes fluttered open, a low groan forced its way out of his throat. Disoriented he stared around, not really taking in what was around him.

"Udesii ad'ika." Skirata put a hand on the kid's shoulder, holding him on the berth, watching how he started to come around.

Brown eyes started to focus on the old mandalorian besides him.

"Where am I?"

His voice was rusty from anasthesia and confused about why he was greeted with such warmth.

The tone in his voice, that desperation ringing loud and clear, tugged at the Kal's heartstrings.

_He s not even three years old._

Skirata decided then and there that it had been the right decision to let the young clone into their secluded hideout. His generation had neither had the warmth of a mando raising him nor had he had time to experience the security his brothers gave him.

"Home, if you want to."

* * *

**A.N.:**

Hello everybody, first of all, thank you if you have come this far and are still reading this note. Just a warning, it is going to be longer tham my usual.

This story is not quiet what I had hoped it would turn out to be, but I have come to the point where I realize that it is not going to get better until I either do a massive re-write or come up with a sequal.

Both options are really not going to happen any time soon.

Sorry for anyone who would rather have had another chapter of Revelations, I am working on it, I promise.

It is just that my upcoming finals are going to cause some delay in my writing. (For Revelations as well as Finding Home.)

Please note, I am putting neither projects on an hiatus, I am working on them as quickly as I can, but I refuse to put something up here that I am not at least satisfied with.

Please tell me what you think, just point out what you like, what needs improvement, I will make sure to work on it.


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